His Living Wife
by rosemasquerader
Summary: Who will be Erik's wife if a new character comes in play? Will it be Christine or will it be another belle?
1. Freefalling

**A/N: In none of my stories do I own the original document. But the characters in which are not found in the originals are created by me, as well as some of the plots.**

Claire woke and yawned; she stretched and looked about her. She knew she must get up, but the coziness of the small attic room was comforting.

Before her aunt swung open her bedroom door she knew she was there.

"Claire, its past five thirty. You know you must make breakfast before your uncle gets up." By this time Claire had sat up. "Up, up, up, now!" Claire was now already out of the bed.

"I'll be right down, ma'am." She took a dress out of her closet that looked warm. It was green with a flared skirt. She hurriedly pulled it over her head. She got her bag and slipped out the door and downstairs.

She went through her daily routine; she made breakfast, ate and cleaned her aunt's large kitchen spotless. After all she remembered her mother constantly reminding her to take pride in her work no matter what it was.

As se said goodbye to her aunt and uncle, her aunt called to her.

"Claire after you get out of school please meet us at the Opera Garnier."

"Alright."

Her aunt and uncle financed shows there, they were among many, but they did put upon themselves certain responsibilities. Whether these tasks they took upon themselves really helped the members of the opera house it did not matter. They were getting money in and although they had many other patrons Claire's aunt and uncle were both from rich heritage families that were well-known in Paris.

Claire's story may seem very similar to that of Cinderella but let me assure you here are many differences.

After her parents did she was taken to Europe to stay with her aunt and uncle. Although they clothed and fed her, she had to make it her own way in other expenses. She also had large responsibilities at the mansion. There were maids to make the beds and a cook to cook the food but on Fridays it was the cook's day off which led to Claire cooking on that fine spring morning.

She was well provided for and well taken care of but something was missing. Something that Claire wished she had rather than all the comforts and riches in the world. One four lettered word. Love. Her family, before it was lost, had always been very loving. Her parents had surrounded their home in it. Her aunt and uncle barely acknowledged her whenever she came home from school.

But this was her life now and she tried to make the best of it. To her classmates she was different. She was much more mature than most of the student body put together. She was intelligent and she spent most of her time in the library researching histories and stories of certain personages. She knew three languages; English, French and Spanish. She had even taught herself a bit of Latin.

The last two years in Paris had changed her.

After school she took a bus to the Opera Garnier. She looked up at the grand building, it was breathtaking. She walked up the large staircase in the foyer; she opened the door to her left and proceeded down some stairs. She walked to the manager's office where she knew she'd find her relatives. When got there the door was closed, so she knocked politely. "Come in." came the answer from within.

She opened the door and it creaked on its hinges.

"There you are Claire were wondering when you would show up." Her took her by the arm and led her into the office. Her uncle barely looked up from the papers that were on the desk before him, both he and the manager were scouring them diligently. Her uncle had tried to give her a smile but it had come out more like a smirk. Her aunt looked around uncomfortably and then she saw the manager and pushed Claire forward.

"You've met our niece; I'm sure, Monsieur Debierne."

"Yes it's a pleasure to see you again, mademoiselle." He had gotten up roughly from the table getting a glare from Claire's uncle. He then came over and kissed Claire's hand, out of respect of her connection with his largest patrons. He seemed like he was rehearsed and was nervous for the play that would be his debut. Claire seeing this thought it best to leave the room as quickly as was possible, without offending anyone's feelings.

"I'll step outside, if you wish to speak in private."

"Yes, Claire I believe that would be for the best." Her uncle had risen, Claire nodded and quietly but quickly walked out. She hurriedly turned the corner and let out a sigh of relief. _Now I can be myself…_

She wondered down endless halls just admiring the beauty around her and also letting her imagination soar. No matter how many times she came here she would always be amazed at the magnificent architecture. You could almost imagine yourself into a castle, if you had an imagination at all. Or that you were back in the time when it was in full swing after just being opened. In the back of her mind was a little voice telling her she was going to get lost in all the interworking of corridors; but it was so small that she simply ignored it and pursued on. She walked down sets of halls hoping not to meet anyone who would disrupt the thoughts swimming inside her mind.

She came to a dark hallway she looked around but no one was there. _Should I go in__…?_

She decided to have some adventure so she ventured in. There was no electric lighting only a few candles here and there along the walls. She could see the hallway hadn't been used for awhile, _and obviously not cleaned_ she thought as she saw cobwebs clinging to the corners. She continued on. The corridor suddenly ended at a door. An old door that she could see that in its day had been quite a beauty. It had deep burgundy faded paint with thin golden borders, but it was all faded now. Curiously she peered at it, she knew it would probably be locked, but she turned the handle just in case and to her surprise it was unlocked. She gently but firmly pushed it open and then all of the sudden she was standing in a dark room. She couldn't see much so she hurried back to the hallway and got one of the candles. She re-entered the room, a dressing room actually. The light from the candle was little but she was able to make out a fainting couch on the far left wall and a vanity, a small single bed, changing curtains and then on the back wall was the most curious thing. Slowly Claire walked over to it. It spread across the whole wall from floor to ceiling, a mirror. Her reflection looked back at her. _Curious_, she thought. She looked at the mirror and ran her hand along it_, I wonder._ She stood on her tippy toes and reached for the top of the mirror. _It should be any__where here if its here._ When she was about to give up she gave one last try running here hand along the top, her fingers suddenly found a dent. Or what felt like a dent, she held her breath and gently pushed. Nothing.

"Oh well." She turned around and started heading for the door when something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. It was a face, she looked closer, her face, _but it can't be there was no mirror there before._ Suddenly she felt a gust of wind behind her; she turned to find all of her reflections staring back at her. They swirled around her, faster and faster and then she was in darkness, here candle had blown out.

"Wonderful!" She was exasperated and yet a bit of her was curious and told her to go on ahead. She knew where she was well at least the proximity of where she was. _That was __Christine's__ dressing room…__and this is the passageway that will lead to the spring. He was real, the story was true. How else could that have been there? _A whole bunch of reasonable reasons floated into her head but she threw them aside. _No, this is proof that he did exist at one time….That poor man._

She walked forwards towards a faded green light. _Just like in the story…_

As she was walking forwards the thoughts that should have been running through her head, like she was going to get lost in a bunch of catacombs or she was going to get killed by booby traps, didn't even come to her mind. Her thoughts were in a different time a long time ago. Perhaps that's why what happened, happened, who knows. She began singing a song her mother used to sing.

_Off in a far off place _

_Where princes and dragons still roam_

_Lives a young maiden fair_

_She will not be distressed for those who care _

_t__o__ save this lass fair_

_She __sees the __boys'__ everyday_

_But none strike her fancy_

_She longs for man not __a boy who wo__n__'__t go off _

_s__omewhere_

_Someone to hold her safe and warm_

_Someone to love her no matter what_

_Someone who cares for her_

_Someone special_

_She softly sings of the man she wants _

_Every day the sun falls down_

_She looks over the sheep and smiles at her subjects_

_They lift their ears and listen to the sweet sad melody_

_And sigh and baa at the song that fills every creatures ears_

_A bird perches upon a tree and flies down and__ whistles__ softly to the maiden __and thus she begins her song,_

_"__I want a man who will keep me warm on a cold lonely night_

_I want a man to love me no matter what_

_To love not for money_

_To love not for beauty_

_To love for me, that's what_

_I want a man _

_He could be a count or prince_

_Or even a shepherd _

_But he must love me_

_But he must love me__…"_

When she was just in sight of the fountain, she lost her footing and fell. A scream rose into her throat. Images flashed past her, voices called and screamed. There was a toad somewhere croaking its song and then the swell of voices combined to make a roar beyond hearing, just a deafening roar. She felt a sharp pain through her body, it shot through her. It felt as if she'd been run through with a sword. She gasped, tears running down her face. Then the pain faded and there was just complete darkness she wasn't even falling anymore just floating. She stayed like that in the nothingness for at least five minutes, she was gasping for breaths trying to calm down her racing heart. Then there was light all around her again and she was freefalling again.


	2. Grasshopper or Scorpion It's Your Choice

"It is eleven o'clock. It's time for you to choose Christine. The grasshopper or the scorpion? It's your choice." Erik looked at his soon bride-to-be knowing she had no choice. A voice from a door to his far right interrupted his thoughts; it was coming from the Torture Chamber.

"Christine, where are you?"

"By the scorpion."

"Don't touch it yet it might be a trick."

"Daroga this is no trick."

"Erik, then is the scorpion the right one?" Christine looked worriedly at Erik hoping to find some clue in his eyes she knew mercy would not be found there.

"If you wish to jump at our wedding."

"See you said jump!"

"In happiness my dear." Christine hand started going towards the scorpion but then in an anxious second stopped.

"Alright Christine I'm turning the…" He stopped in midsentence. He felt a unexpected change in the air, like when you know something big is out of place but you don't know what it is. Suddenly as if to answer his unmoving reactions a melody began to drift sweetly down from above.

_She softly sings of the man she wants _

_Every day the sun falls down_

_She looks over the sheep and smiles at her subjects_

_They lift their ears and listen to the sweet sad melody_

_And sigh and baa at the song that fills every creatures ears_

_A bird perches upon a tree and flies down and whistles softly to the maiden and thus she begins her song,_

_"I want a man who will keep me warm on a cold lonely night_

_I want a man to love me no matter what_

_To love not for money_

_To love not for beauty_

_To love for me, that's what_

_I want a man _

_He could be a count or prince_

_Or even a __shepherd,_

_But he must love me_

_But he must_

_(It_ was as if the singer took a breath and then with a sight finished with

_love me…"_

"Who…who is that?" For the first time in his life Erik seemed uncertain. Christine looked up for that's where the voice had seemed to be coming from. She looked at Erik and his eyes were in shock. The Persian from inside the Torture Chamber was confused, Raul was still panting because of the heat.

The air seemed to shift; everyone in the underground seemed to feel like they were being slightly stretched, but no pain, just an uncomfortable silence. Then, all of the sudden there was light shining all around them, the lights to spin around the two forms and then it dropped away and there was a thud.

"What was that?" But then Christine looked where she had heard the thud and there was a woman lying on the floor. Neither Erik nor Christine moved forward they were too shocked by what happened. Slowly the woman on the floor lifted her head. Her head slightly moved up, a mass of wavy brown curls falling around her face. She looked around herself shocked, she slowly stood but she fell to her knees. She gasped.

"What the he…" The Persian swore under his breath. At his words the girl swung her head toward the door and then she turned her head back towards Christine. Slowly she lifted herself off her feet and clung to the wall for balance.

"You're…you're…" She looked at Erik, "Oh, my…" She looked down at the box holding the scorpion and grasshopper. There was a long pause while she gazed down at the box. Then, all of the sudden a sad smile appeared on her face as she gazed back into the face of Christine.

She couldn't even stop herself from saying what she said next.

"Believe him, the grasshopper will bury us. Whereas the scorpion will be your consent and perhaps he'll show you compassion if you first offer the favor." She slowly turned around and saw the bag sitting on the table and grasped it and before Erik could recover she had gotten Raul and the Persian out of the Torture Chamber. "I was just doing this so they won't drown when she consents. After all Raul can still live. Just not with her, after all she can't have to men engaged to her.

"Christine, choose the scorpion, you'll not regret it trust me." Christine looked at the girl with a stunned look on her face. _Who was this girl? A fairy or an angel? A gypsy?_ Hesitantly, Christine looked at Erik who at last had gained his composure, but the girl was already going towards the door that would lead her to the lake. Christine put her hand on the scorpion and with a deep breath turned it. Nothing, but then she heard a gurgle and then she heard rushing. She rushed towards the viewing window for Torture Chamber and sure enough it was filling up with water.

"She was right."

"Of course, I was." The girl now turned towards the Persian. "May you please show me the way out. You do don't you?" The Persian just nodded his head and offered his arm in respectful silence for a girl who seemed to know everything, and had saved his life. The girl gratefully accepted his arm, "Thank you." She began towards the door.

"Wait!" She turned at the sound of Erik's voice. When she turned Erik thought he had detected a flush but perhaps he was wrong. "Were you the one singing?" She quickly looked up at him and then looked down, the blush this time was clear. That sad smile of hers played on the corners of her mouth, as she looked up at him. She looked at him straight in the eye. This was the first time he really saw her face, everything had happened so quickly. Her eyes were an emerald green that shown brightly with something he couldn't detect. She looked discreet and yet invincible in an odd way, he'd never seen such a contrast in a person before. She was a good height not too tall and not too short. Yet as she looked up at him into his cinnamon gold eyes there was a flame within hers. He already knew what her answer would be even before she said it.

She tilted her head slightly, "Yes." It was barely above a whisper and at that she gave a slight bow of the head towards Christine and headed out the door.

The Persian as he helped her into the boat said, "What's your name mademoiselle?" She looked at him before climbing into the boat and said, "Claire my name is Claire."


	3. The Siren

Claire looked up at the mast ceiling above her head and smiled. How can this be all happening? She looked down and frowned slightly as she looked at the Persian rowing the boat.

_Why in the world did I __say__ what I said? I could have changed history? Wait! I have! Now the story will be told differently, I must tell the Persian that if he's ever asked about what happened this night don't include me. But then it will seem so odd, oh great! _

She emitted an exaggerated sigh. The Persian looked up at her.

"Are you alright, mademoiselle?" She nodded quietly. She opened her mouth to say what she knew she had to say before it was too late but the Viscount interrupted her.

"Wait! What about Christine?" He had come out of his shocked state from the Torture Chamber and was shaking uncontrollably. He began to move and his movement caused the boat to rock side to side.

"Sit down!" The Persian shouted. "You are going to make this boat turn over."

"But…" Raul began again, but Claire but a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"She'll be alright, Raul."

"Who are you?"

It was now or never, but then a piercing siren interrupted their discussion.

"The siren, he wouldn't!" The Persian looked fearfully around. "Whatever you do don't lean over the side of the boat!"

Claire well knew this, yet she couldn't help but look over the water ever so slightly wondering if she would hear the strange song from the book. As she looked over the lake she saw water bubbles coming up distorting the reflection the water gave of her.

To giant hands pierced through the surface of the water. Claire gasped and tried to jump back in time but one hand was able to get her before she was out of reach and dragged her into the icy cold water.

**A/N: Sorry for the short chapter. The next one should be longer. Please review.**


	4. Servant or Friend, Monsieur?

Erik looked at Christine as the girl left. She looked down, embarrassed. Suddenly he came to his senses. What was he doing? He couldn't let the girl leave just like that? He turned abruptly and headed towards the door.

"I'll be right back." He turned to take off his jacket before jumping into the lake.

"Erik!" he turned towards Christine. "Please don't hurt her or any of them. You've gotten my consent. Please don't harm them." He just turned abruptly and disappeared into the lake.

He could see her reflection slightly come over the water even after Daroga had given the warning after the siren had been let off. He wondered what she was waiting for and if she knew the danger she was in. _No matter what has to be done __must__ be done. _His hands reached toward her. She jerked up immediately as his hands appeared out of the water but not in time. With barely a scream she was pulled into the water. He still had her arm and had no intention of letting it go. She was trying to get to the surface. He grabbed her waist roughly she gasped and he could see the water fill her mouth. He had not intended for her to drown, thus he deliberately dragged her to the surface. He took her to shore. At first he thought he was too late but then she began to have a coughing fit as she coughed up all the water that had gotten into her lungs. She rolled onto her back, her hair plastered to the sides of her face, gasping to get some of the dusty air of the undergrounds into her lungs.

When Erik was sure she was going to survive he pulled her up.

"Mademoiselle, you are going to come back with me." The girl only nodded. He turned her towards a passageway that he knew would lead them to another that would eventually take them back to his home.

"Erik! Wait! You can't just take this poor girl with you!"

"Daroga, I assure you I can and unless you want me to present you to a fate that this time you can't be rescued from I suggest you go back to your home and never come down here again. Understood!" Daroga just looked from the shivering girl back to Erik. He was about to open his mouth to argue when a small voice spoke up.

"Please, I believe I can settle this. I will willingly go with Erik. For I believe he doesn't intend on hurting me, he had full advantage when we were in the lake."

"Mademoiselle, you do not know what you are getting yourself into."

"You would be surprised, monsieur. Now I will go with him. I don't believe I have much of a choice, but thank you for your concern. Don't return for me, but thank you." And with that she turned and Erik did as well as he led her through the passageway.

It was a quiet trip back to Erik's domain. Neither spoke because they did not know what to say. Erik was surprised at this woman's confidence. Claire was feeling like she was on a fast rollercoaster, by feeling terrified yet strangely enjoying herself. Her shaking was easily thought to be because of the cold, which partially it was. At last they arrived at the house. Erik in mock ceremony opened his door with a bow.

"Welcome to my humble abode yet again mademoiselle but this time you are invited." Christine was sitting patiently sitting on the chair in the rose room. She rose when Erik spoke she looked frightened when she saw Claire in the tow.

"Oh my dear…" Christine's sentence drifted off when she saw Erik's eyes give her a warning look. She quickly looked down.

"This girl will be your handmaiden until I see what to do with her."

"My handmaiden?"

"Yes, and please get her something decent to wear and get her dry. So she'll be of greater service to you." With this final statement Erik left the room.

Christine was thoroughly worn out from the entire day.

"Come." Christine beckoned the girl into her room. "Now let's find something for you to wear. You go take a warm bath and then by then I'll have something ready for you."

"Thank you."

After the bath Claire felt refreshed and she came out of the bathroom in a robe. Christine looked at the dress Claire had been wearing.

"I'm afraid you will never be able to wear this again. It's a different style than what we have here in Paris though. Well enough we that, let me help you." She brought up a corset and Claire shook her head vigorously.

"I'd rather not."

"Well you must wear it for the dress. Since you are not used to it I'll only tie it as tight as it needs to be for the dress, alright?" Claire nodded unsurely. Christine began to tie it. "I'd hold onto the bed post if I were you." Claire clung to it and gasped when Christine tightened the laces. "You will get used to it."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that." Claire made a face in the mirror beside her. For the first time that day Christine felt like laughing and when she began she couldn't stop. "It wasn't that funny."

"I'm sorry it's just that…I haven't laughed in so long."

"Usually in a similar situation I would laugh too, but considering I can hardly breathe I don't believe it's possible." This only made Christine laugh all the more. "What have I said now?" But even then Claire couldn't help but smile.

Erik had left for his room to let Christine attend to the girl. It was odd, he thought, how his mind couldn't make itself up, if she was a woman or a girl. There was youth in her face yet there was maturity in her eyes and that sad smile of hers. What did she want? Why had she come? Where did she come from? She had seemed shocked when she had arrived. There was something about her that made him feel something he never remembered feeling before. Curious. He was curious why her eyes sparkled? Why her smile hid so many secrets?

Damn her. Damn him. Why was he thinking of her? Christine had consented to his proposal! To save lives. Damn it all!

Thus he went and did the only thing that he knew would calm down his thoughts, he composed.

He was just finishing one of his songs that he'd started a while ago, when he started to hear laughing coming from the room next to his. Could it be? He got up from his seat and opened his door. He stormed over to Christine's room and knocked firmly on the door. The laughing stopped suddenly, he could hear footsteps towards the door and then a brilliant looking Christine answered the door. She was stifling what he thought were giggles, but perhaps he was mistaken.

"Yes?" Christine was desperately trying to stop a smile from coming across her face.

"Have you done what I asked?"

"Umm," Christine looked back at Claire who had finally gotten the dress over her head but now she was stuck. Christine burst into giggles again, but when she looked back at Erik and saw his frown she tried her best to make a straight look. Yet she failed as the corners of her lips curled up again. She cleared her throat. "It might be a few more minutes, Erik."

"Well, have her ready soon. Then, have her come out here alone I need to speak to her." Christine nodded and closed the door.

Erik began to pace in front of their door. _Their door?!_ She'd already made an influence on his mind and he had no idea who she was!

There was a slow creaking sound behind him as the door opened. He looked around and wished he had not. Christine might have been a delicate allure, but the creature that stood before him was an ethereal beauty. She was in a simple but beautiful dark green dress. It fit her petite yet long frame perfectly. _Must have been too long for Christine, then. Christine_! Why was he thinking of this girl this way when he had Christine?

He had to shake his head frustratingly. Slowly after shaking free such thoughts he looked back at the girl with cold wary glare only to be jolted by her lonely stance. Her head was down and she seemed utterly embarrassed and confused. _I have an odd feeling she won't be able to explain to me why she's here __or how she got here either? Now what must I do with her_He began to encircle her; he saw her try to hide a shiver by rubbing her arms as if she was cold which she very well could be. He continued to encircle her.

_What in the world is he doing? _Claire was embarrassed for she felt unimaginably beautiful in the dress she was wearing. She had asked Christine if there were any other dresses for her to wear but when she heard the reason she refused. She also gave the excuse that there were no other dresses that would fit Claire. _Oh well, what can I do? He's still doing it he reminds me terribly right now like a vulture circling his prey._ She was getting seriously irritated by this and before she could stop herself a whispered retort came from her mouth but he heard it.

"You know, monsieur, I am not a racehorse in which you can examine for an hour." He was slightly taken a back by her boldness but he recovered quickly and chuckled.

"Ah, she speaks." At this remark Claire's head shot straight up and she looked him straight in the eye with a strange glint in her eyes.

_She's angry at me._ But as soon as the glint, as small as candle flame in the minds eye, came it left quickly and she let out a deep breath.

"Yes, I'm perfectly capable of speaking my own mind monsieur. Unlike some think women do have brains." He glared back at her. His eyes were so cold and unfeeling. She'd never thought his eyes would be like this. Although she'd read versions that they were often cold and unfeeling. She thought the real person would be different.

"Of course they do, I have no doubt of it. Now what am I to do with you, hmm?" He looked at her expectantly but she looked just directly back at him. "You can't stay here forever and yet I can't trust you to go. So you must stay here until we move out which will be enough time I suppose. Will anyone be looking for you?"

"Not here in the…in Paris."

"You may now go back to Christine."

"I have but one question; do you wish me to be her servant or friend monsieur? For I believe she's in desperate need of the latter." He gave her the cruelest look when she finished and she realized she had gone too far. "After all her wedding will be soon and she'll need someone to talk to." That was best cover up that she could do after her tongue had run away again.

"Be for her whatever she needs, I do want to look for the best for my soon to be wife."

"Of course." She gave a slight nod of her head and curtsied and left. Erik looked after her and asked one question in his head, _what have I gotten myself into? _


	5. Christine's Handmaiden

Claire had now been in Erik's domain for three days. Erik had been preparing constantly for his wedding. He wanted it to be perfect for his love. Christine had went to sleep with a sad smile on her face the night Claire came. But the next morning Christine was getting fidgety and nervous.

"What do you think he's been doing?" Christine was shaking as soon as she remembered her choice to marry him. Claire had made breakfast after finding where the kitchen was.

Claire shook her head and sat down across from Christine and began to eat her toast.

"How can you eat at a moment like this?"

"I'm sorry do you need to talk?"

"Yes, I believe I do." Her sigh was audible. "I believe I made the right choice. I mean what else could I have chosen to do?" Before Claire could open her mouth, Christine went on. "I couldn't let him murder hundreds of people just because I couldn't bare to spend my life with him. Not only that I'd be dead as well as my beloved Raoul. Yet how will I live on down here. He told me he'd make arrangements so that we could live normally, but what is life without love. I have promised myself to him willingly to save others and yet I feel so guilty as if I've cheated him out of something." Claire now gazed at her and nodded.

"As well as yourself." Christine looks up startled as if she'd just realized she was there.

"Yes, from myself." A hand was delicately pressed against her chest. "From myself."

"You don't love him Christine. Yet have you ever truly shown him compassion. When you closed your eyes when he would kiss the hem of your skirt was that compassion? Or was it fear? Disgust? In order to feel complete you must give your heart truly. Show him compassion, not to get away from your guilt but because you know he needs it. Because you know without compassion he'll never truly live and neither will you."

"That's beautiful." Her gaze looked at Claire with new eyes. She was even more a mystery, yet underneath it all she could make out a young girl with wit and feelings deeper than the ocean itself. Far surpassing anything Christine had felt ever in her life. She envied the girl for such emotion and she wondered what brought it about in this girl only a year her minor. "You are right. Now I believe I just need to think. And be alone if that's alright. I'll be in my room."

Claire gazed after Christine's retreating form, she had achieved her goal. Now everything would roll smoothly, the story would continue onto its course and Christine would be free to love the one that was still close to her heart. Yet Erik would be left alone, like he always was. He'd be broken down and he would die, just as the story foretold. Claire shook her head. What could she do? His heart belonged to Christine, his obsessed mind was fully focused on one goal and once that slipped away he would have no purpose. At least that's what he would believe. She shook her head again. _But where will I go? Thankfully I know how to speak French. Singing at the opera would be a last resort. Mother alw__ays said that singing was only __for one time, true love and perhaps if an emergency arose. Could this be classified as an emergency? _Where else could she go? What else could she do?

A loud bang jolted her from her thoughts. She automatically stood up ram rod straight (something her uncle always commanded her to do whenever he came into the room). Erik strode in with parcels piled up in his arms. He set them down carefully on the table, with only a slight curious glance at Claire. Claire awkwardly cleared her throat and sat down, whispering about it being a habit. He only looked at her curiously before passing her some parcels.

"Have you given Christine her breakfast?"

"She didn't seem hungry. I set the food out for her but eventually she told me that she was going to her room." Erik looked at her fully then.

"Is she feeling alright?!" He was already striding out the door and heading towards Christine's room.

"Monsieur?"

"Yes!"

"She said she wished to be alone and that she needed to think." He stopped and turned abruptly towards her.

"You didn't upset her do you?"

"No, I don't believe I did. She was needing advice, I gave it to her."

"You are but a servant, mademoiselle, and nothing else. If she wants companionship she may come to me." Claire could feel her face getting red. Her sweet mellow façade seemed to fade, she saw his surprised face but that did not stop her from marching up to him.

"Has it occurred to you, monsieur, that possibly she need feminine advice. Just because she's going to become your wife does not mean she is your possession. She is still aloud to have a friend. And as her **handmaiden**, I can be that friend. As you can see there is no other **girl **here is there, no faithful companion to your precious Christine and thus I took it upon myself to be that companion. At least until you no longer, wish for my **services**, monsieur." She sneered at him and with that she turned on her heel and headed back to the kitchen.


	6. Compassion

Erik stood there in the hallway looking after the fiery torrent's fast retreat. He stood there not quite sure what hit him, blinking rapidly a few times he composed himself and slowly made his way towards Christine's door. Before knocking he looked back down the hall, the girl was no longer there but the image of her still was. He shook his head and took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

"Come in." Christine's voice seemed shaken, as if she had been crying. _What has that girl done to her? _Erik rushed forward as soon as he opened the door, only to find her calmly seated at her vanity waiting for him.

"Are you alright?" He hesitantly came forward. She gazed up at him with glistening eyes, and he could see that there was a change in her. Although he didn't want to admit it to himself she had been rather…what was the word distracted, yet now she was bright and aware despite the tears that still glistened in her eyes.

"Erik." Her chin was raised slightly higher and she took a deep breath and for the first time since he knew her she looked straight into his eyes. She let out her breath. "I must…apologize…I've been fooling you in a way and I didn't realize it until a quite witty mind expressed exactly what I've felt. I haven't shown you…compassion, Erik, and for that I am tenderly sorry."

Erik was not used to being surprised twice in one day. Here was his beloved angel confessing that she had wronged him in some way. While he was the one who had done so many things that hadn't shown love. _Of course I've been showing love. Why did I think that? I've given her everything. __My whole heart, my whole mind.__ My whole mind and I have forced my love on her. She accepted my proposal, she must love me. You saw her eyes, she loves the fop not you. _

Christine gazed at him, there was so much more she wanted to tell him but she could see he was waging an inner war. Thus, she waited patiently before him. He seemed to put a stop to it for his eyes adjusted back to her. She cleared her throat nervously, for what she was about to do, would truly mean a change in her. She had forgotten about Raoul then, as she looked up at Erik she knew what she must do and say.

"Erik, as I soon will be your wife, I…" She stopped when he came over and put his long cold finger to her lips and shook his head.

"It is not you who should apologize but me. I have not…truly shown you love. I've betrayed you, you were not the one fooling the other but me. I love you Christine, desperately and I want…want to make you happy." Christine could see his eyes begin to mist up._ He's going to cry. My dear Phantom is going to cry. For my sake, for the wrongs he's done upon me. He realizes it, he does. Perhaps, he does have a heart._ And with that her eyes began to fill with tears as well. She leaned towards him ever so slightly he had taken off his mask and she gave him the most briefest yet most tenderest gift that Erik had ever received in his life.

* * *

Claire sat in the kitchen, waiting, just waiting. She knew it had worked for she heard the choked sobs coming from Christine's room. Unknowingly tears began to fall down her cheeks. _I suppose this is it. _Then there was complete silence. Then the sound of the door opening and closing reached her ears. Christine rushed in.

"Goodbye. He's letting me go." She looked at Claire even in her hurried state. "You've been crying are you alright?" Claire nodded silently.

"Just go, Christine, go to Raoul I'll be fine. I suppose I'll be leaving soon as well." Christine looked down upon the girl, and gave into the urge to hug her.

"Thank you, so much. For everything." And with that Christine left, never again to return to the house on the lake. Claire looked after her sorrowfully and then looked around her. Suddenly her body started moving without her brain telling it to, it began to clean up the kitchen. _Why am I doing this? It's no use this house will be vacant soon? _But something deep within her told her to continue on. When she came out she was covered head to toe in dust. _Might as well take a bath and get dressed and then leave __I__ suppose._

She sighed and headed towards Christine's room only to find Erik still mournfully lying there on the ground. _What am I to do? I can just __go,__ he won't even realize that I left. Ok I'll go to the bathroom get cleaned up and if he's still vacant then I leave without a word. And what happens if he's not? Well then I'll just take my leave as soon as I can. _Nodding with confidence she slipped past his form, as quietly as possible. She bathed as quickly as possible without making too much noise. She got out another simple dress and then when realizing she didn't have any belongings headed for the door. She was stopped though by a voice behind her.

"Christine." Claire stopped dead in her tracks. He's woken up from his state, now what? Ever so slightly she turned and took a deep breath but as she gazed at him she couldn't bring herself to say that she was leaving. He didn't wear his mask, it was rather frightening but it wasn't as horrifying as she expected it to be. She hesitated.

"It's me. Claire. I…"_ Oh no, I can't say that I'm leaving him. He's already had Christine leave and now me. But I don't mean anything to __him,__ he could care less if I left. He probably would not like it for me to stay. That's out of the question. Or is it? I've always loved the Phantom of the Opera story, I felt drawn to his character, __I__ wanted to show him a happily ever after ending. And here I have the chance to do so, and I'm being unsympathetic. But this is totally different, this is actually real, not a book or fictional __character__ but a setting with a flesh and blood man. Yet what can I do? There's nothing….there is something. _Slowly she turned fully towards him. She hesitated though, unsure of herself. Carefully she stepped forward he didn't even move, so she knelt down in front of him and looked up at him with sad feeling eyes glistening with untold pain. She took a deep breath, after all she was about to give him the greatest touch of compassion he'd ever received for it even far surpassed Christine's thoughtful feeling towards him. Carefully she leaned towards him, his eyes seemed unfocused, he didn't even know she was there. And although one might think that would make the task at hand all the more easier, it just made it harder for Claire. With one last breath she put held his head and lowered her lips to his. She felt a shock run through her, she tried to ignore it but she could not. It was only a tender kiss, not passionate filled, yet it was still as kiss. Her lips parted from his and she brought her lips down to his ear, "I hope you felt that for one last joy before you decide to fade away. Goodbye Erik." She began to get up but a hand shot up and grabbed her wrist. The fast movement made her fall down on her rear with a dull thud.

"What have you done to me? You witch!" She couldn't believe it! She could feel her face getting red and she knew her fire was rising up but she couldn't stop herself now if she tried.

"I gave you a kindness, monsieur. Next time, if there ever is one, for you seem intent on dying pathetically, I'll make sure I hold back from giving you a kind gesture." She didn't really truly mean it but her temper was flaring. She picked up his mask before exiting. "Here monsieur I believe you forgot this!" And she flung it at him without even looking back and without further a due she flew from the house. Wishing deep down inside her hurt heart that she never allow herself to fall for that moment of bliss ever again.


	7. His Thoughts

Christine had kissed him. Ever so softly on his forehead, but it was only contact ever willingly given to him by a woman in all his life. That sincere action led him to make his decision. She would leave and be free and he'd die alone.

_You did the right thing. You truly did love her in the end. _

He lay there not wishing to get up. Barely hearing as Christine left his house.

_No reason to live no longer. No energy too. I can only write so many compositions and I no longer have any more inspiration. My love is gone. My obsession. My soul. My heart. Do I truly have a heart? I let her go. I suppose I do. _

Then his mind went blank for he wished no longer to think of his pain he just wished to die.

Alone. The dark. The night. His friends, loneliness and night intermingled with pain and rejection.

He felt a movement beside him, ever so slightly. And the first thought that came to his mind, "Christine." There was a long pause and then another's voice instead answered. It was the girl. What girl? For a moment he had forgotten. There was another pause, and a lengthy one. His mind had drawn a blank again, not wishing to interact any longer with anything, anyone. Then his semi consciousness felt hands cradling his head, he wondered vaguely why it was happening, but a sweet brush of his lips stopped his thoughts completely. His senses flooded in; his eyes unseeing became bright but could barely see more than a blur, his ears could hear his shallow breathing and the quick beat of his heart, he could smell wild flowers. A shock shook him through is core and as the lips parted from his, his anger flared up surprisingly and his actions were quick and jerky. His words and eyes, merely hiding his fear and shock. Her words that came back shook him to his core and instead of making his anger burn hotter it just put it out abruptly.

Did she just kiss me? A woman kissed me?

She abruptly turned back to him and through him his mask, he absently took it and looked down upon its self-made prison. What have I done? She's shown me more compassion and kindness in one gesture than even _Christine…Christine…but I didn't feel the same as when she gave me that gesture…no…there was feeling behind this girls action…its not love…I barely know her and she barely knows me…yet there was almost an understanding when she kissed me…I must know why…I must! What am I doing just sitting here?_

And as Erik shook himself from his self pity he made a hasty decision that would change his whole life. It would go against his heart, but something was compelling him to do so and thus he went after the one girl that was on his mind at that very moment.

* * *

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews the really encourage me to update. So thanks to everyone. Sorry that this chapter is shorter but the next one should be longer. Anyone know what the next chap. is about? Guess :D Anyways the next chapter's title pretty much explains itself. It'll be coming soon don't worry. So thanks again****. Tootles!**


	8. His Living Bride

**A/N: Ok, I usually don't like doing notes before. Despite the title of the story and this chapter its not like every other EOC. It has a different ring to it. Although, I won't say that it****'****s better than the others because that's not fair, I will say that I'm rather proud of how its turning out. So, thanks for the reviews and please continue telling me how you feel. **

Claire left the house rapidly only to find that she would have to swim. By the time she reached the middle of the lake her temper had cooled off. Yet it was replaced with hurt. Her limbs were growing tired of treading the dark waters of the lake, especially with her skirts that hindered her. She could feel her emotions coming to their height. _I will NOT allow myself to cry. I will NOT…_But as she reached another dark coated shore, silent tears began to fall and so she just curled up, shivering, while sobs racked through her soul. Her head lay on top of her knees.

"I'm such a baby. I hardly know him and I'm acting as if…as if…" Another sob came from her. It wasn't just for what happened shortly before, but for all the other hardships she'd been through and where she never shed a tear. The pain, the sorrow, and the loneliness came all together in a storm of heartsick emotions. She didn't really have any friends back in her time. She had lost both friends and family on one fateful night, so long ago it seemed. Shakily she got up, her legs nearly collapsing underneath because of all the emotional exhaustion.

"I must be strong." She whispered forcefully to herself. She looked at the long tunnel and the long trek ahead of her. She tried not to think of what she was going to do once she reached the surface. All she knew she needed to focus on was making it there. So she walked on, trying to keep her mind blank. As she believed she was reaching the upper levels, she heard something. It was probably a rat so she dismissed it and continued on but then it came again. Another thought came into her mind, it might be the Persian. Slim chance, but perhaps.

"Monsieur? Is that you? Its me Claire…if you aren't a rat at least show yourself." The last part was mumbled. Then she could distinctly hear the rustle of fabric, as if the person were shifting from foot to foot indecisively. "Hmm…Alright I suppose you can be that way." She tried to squint and make out a shape in the black tunnel. She shrugged her shoulders and returned on her way. There was an eerie green light ahead.

"The spring!" All thoughts of her follower left her as she raced up to the spring. It was not an ugly little pool as Leroux's book made it out to be but there was actually a small waterfall/fountain that lay in the middle of the side wall. The lantern with green tinted glass reflected off the waters, making it look even more mystical and gothic looking. A sigh escaped her lips.

"He truly is a magnificent architect."

* * *

Did she mean him? Of course she did…NOT. That word continued to whisper throughout his mind and he knew it wasn't true.

* * *

Murals were painted around the fountain, even in the dim light she could see the intricate design. She had no doubt who the artist was. First of all the theme totally gave it away. It showed a castle and a beast that looked half gargoyle and half lion. Towards the bottom-right corner there was a beautiful maiden tangled in dead rose vines fighting to get towards the castle, but the thorns continue to cling to her. Tears are falling down her face and a hand reaches out to the beast pleading for forgiveness. The beast spreads its wings and is about to lift off to rescue his love.

The mural looked fairly new. Tears began to well up into Claire's eyes again. _So true…So true…_Her hand lingered on the mural as she turned away, to go down the hallway to Christine's dressing room. Finally, she came to the dead end.

"Here it goes." Claire reached down and found the lever and at first nothing happened like the first time she opened it. Then with a twinkling sound she felt herself being pushed forward and a thousand of herself rotated around her. She didn't realize she was laughing until she saw her reflection.

* * *

Her laugh was musical and sweet yet behind it there was something undefined. Was it pain? Still, her laugh gave him a certain pride that she was laughing because of something he created.

Perhaps his speedy decision wasn't such a bad idea after all.

* * *

Claire found herself back into the dressing room. Yet this time it was at its original splendor. She turned back to the mirror. _Oh, how I want to do it again_.

"Well, I don't have any appointments." With that she reached up and pressed the button for the mechanism again. She sighed and laughed again, she was back again in the tunnel. She shivered slightly as a shiver ran down her spine, she could almost imagine some one breathing down her neck. "Silly me, my imagination is running away with me again." She told herself mockingly, yet she still shook her head to clear her thoughts. "Ok lets do this again." She pulled the trigger, but nothing happened at all. She stood there considering the fact that she very well didn't do it right. She pulled it again and this time the mirrors swirled around her but didn't deposit her in the dressing room but right back into the tunnel.

"What's happening!" _I will__ not get frustrated…I will not get frustrated and then break something…Ok, just take a deep breath._ She took a deep breath. _Now, pull it again._ She did so and with jerky movements instead of fluid expertise the mirrors turned around her and as she began to see the corners of the room come into view they stopped. "Now wha…!" She wasn't able to finish because with a fast turn the mirrors swiveled out and hit her in the back of the head and made her fall forward but instead of landing on the floor she landed on something partially soft…oh and pointy at the same time. All was black.

"What in the world?!" She began to lift her head from the mass of black, but a sharp pain went through her skull. "Ow!" She let her head drop back down on the object.

Slowly she came to her senses. She was on the bed, but the thing she was on was definitely not a pillow. She turned her head slightly and began to smell it. It had an old musty smell but there was something different about it could it be cinnamon, she took another whiff of it.

"Definitely cinnamon." She mumbled. _What__'s__ something like this doing in Christine's dressing room_? It was definitely old. While she was analyzing it, the "it" made an ever so slight movement, getting comfortable you see. Claire jumped up with a stifled squeak. An arm reached up and grabbed her around her waist before she could run off.

"Mademoiselle, could you kindly settle down?" At the dark, deep voice she froze in midflight. "And why in heavens, dear, are you wet?"

_It can't be…It is…O my goodness gracious what's he doing here? I thought he'd decided to die…not go stalking me…for goodness sakes…_Then realization hit her. She turned and glared at Erik and two words burst out of her mouth before she could stop them.

"The rat!" A slight chuckle emanated from his chest.

"Why my dear, I thought you were smarter than that. After all, you know so much about me."

"Well, I…you..I…"

"You are stuttering mademoiselle. Now, I believe I asked you a question." He stared unblinkingly at her. A blush began to creep into her cheeks.

"Well, um…I decided to cool off with a nice swim…not that I had much of a choice the boat was gone." Another chuckle surrounded her, and she could feel her timid personality that usually emanated from her for the last three years begin to come again. She looked at him but then she quickly looked back down, the blush being totally visible now.

Erik studied her he could tell she was trying to sound confident and slightly smug but she was failing badly. Cautiously he tipped her chin up with his finger, he could feel a shiver go through her and hear her taking a sharp intake of breath.

"Mademoiselle, I've been thinking about what you did earlier and…" She still hadn't looked up although he still held her chin up. "Mon ami, I will need you to look at me and pay attention, for what I'm about to do I do very rarely and when I do it's never very direct. So, look at me." After a pause, "Please." With that last word she looked up into his eyes and he could see why she had been looking down. She was hiding her emotions, pain, shock, fear, and then something else he could not define. Did he dare believe that it was hope?

Claire looked up into eyes and she could barely detect a slight look of concern that flickered through his eyes.

"I apologize for how I acted when you…" That's when he paused and cleared his throat, almost nervously. " did what you did." She gave a slight nod, she was at lost at words. The Phantom of the Opera was apologizing to HER. "I wish to ask you something." His voice almost seemed even kind but then as if he saw his mistake he continued on roughly, "And you will come back with me." He held his hand out to her and she took it surprising him.

* * *

The trip back was quiet and still and a bit unnerving to both of them. As they reached the opposite shore where the house situated both uttered a sigh of relief. Erik elegantly withdrew from the boat and then opened the door. Claire began to get out of the boat but it was hard to do so in the dress. That's when he rushed over and immediately helped her out of the boat and led her into the house.

Erik went into the Luis-Phillipe room and began to look for the dress he intended for her to wear. It was slightly painful for him and yet all reason had fled him long ago, he was simply going on an inane instinct inside him.

Claire watched him go through the closet_. I'm sure I'm capable of finding a dress myself_. All of the sudden, he stopped as if he found what he was looking for, there was a pause as he gazed back at her. There was a firm sense of determination in his eyes and mannerisms. It scared her and yet excited her at the same time. _What is he up to?_ His eyes went back to the closet and he pulled out a white dress. It was beautiful yet simple. Claire gasped with delight. It had white silk lining at the bottom edge. A full white lace, lace with roses, skirt. The bodice was fitted and the sleeves were slightly puffed but would fit over the shoulder. It was a dress made for a princess.

Erik looked at her astonished gaze and a mixture of sadness and satisfaction stirred inside him. "I suggest you take a warm bath and then change into this dress, mademoiselle." She still gazed at the dress but then with a slight nod she acknowledged him but then as if coming to she shook her head.

"I can't…I can't wear that dress. It's too…too…beautiful."_ It looks like a wedding dress, almost. Who ever wore it would feel definitely beautiful in it? Perhaps it was to be Christine's? Of course, it was going to be Christine's. But he wants me to wear it. Of course, he no longer has any use for it, but I'd think he'd covet it, not just give it away, even though it was a lost hope. I can't wear it._

She gazed at it still but then looked at him, to see a look of disappointment go across his face, but then he strode over to her and thrust the dress into her arms.

"You will wear it. No matter what you choose."

"What do you mean?" but he was already out the door. _Might as well do as he says, I suppose_

Perhaps he was making a mistake. Yet there was something about her that drew him to her. It wasn't lust or love. He didn't know what it was. Something in her eyes gave him just the oddest feeling of ….happiness.

Perhaps this was to be the first correct course he'd taken all his life.

* * *

Erik tried pacing while waiting but that didn't help. So when Claire finally came out he was desperately trying to amuse himself by reading a book. As he heard the door click into place and slide open he jolted to his feet. There before him stood a vision. He tried telling his mind he was simply exaggerating but it never really reached his eyes and the messages being sent to his brain.

The vision, stood in front of the door, self-consciously trying to pull up the sleeves over her ivory shoulders. Her hair was piled up upon her head with a white ribbon. Slight brown waves cascaded down from the bun, and slightly swinging at the base of her neck and one lone curl hung over her right shoulder. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes down-casted. The dress's neckline slopped down to show ever so slightly a bit of her cleavage, yet still it remained modest.

Erik finally caught his breath and beckoned her forward, she took his hand and he pulled her forward. She stood in front of him, thankful that the dress covered her legs completely, because they were shaking. He could see that she was nervous though, for she was reapeatingly biting her bottom lip.

"I wish to ask you something…my dear."

_Why is he calling me, "my de__ar"? Something's going to happen__ I can feel it, something big._

He had taken both of her hands while she was thinking and he held them delicaly as if afraid they would break. He cleared his throat again, took a deep breath and then looked into her eyes.

"Will you marry me, mademoiselle and be my living wife?" He still gazed intently into her eyes. They were widened in shock.

"I…I…what did you say?"

"You heard me quite clearly the first time, mademoiselle. Will you marry me, in fact today?"

Claire looked at him blankly. _He's gone mad. No, he definite__ly had gone mad long before this__. He can't want to marry ME? I don't love him, and he doesn't love me. _

She didn't realize she'd said that aloud until she felt his hands tighten around hers, and his breath quickened and she knew he was angered.

"Perhaps." It came out haggard and rough. His breathing slowly began to slow down still he held her hands tightly afraid she would vanish.

She looked down at her hands being held tightly.

_This is every phangirl's dream come true. But in all those stories he loved them….they were__ just stories! This…this is reality. HE is my reality. I believe I could come to love him but would he ever love me? If I say no, its not the anger that I'm afraid of…no…I think it's the rejection I'll see in his eyes that will be the worst. I know how that feels and I swore never to make any other person feel that. But this is different, this is a decision that will affect my whole life. I'm still young__! Hear yourself, all you are saying is you, you,__ you __ what about him? What about what Mother said?..._

_**Flashback**_

_**A car wreck…lights f**__**lashing everywhere…her father l**__**ying on a stretcher. Hesitantly she moves closer and then he whispered her name…"Go to you mother, Claire, she must tell you something." Her mother was the last**__** one**__** out of the wreckage.**__** Her beautiful form was crumpled, yet it still had its glow about it, though Claire could tell it was fading. She ran forward, "Oh, mama!" She knelt beside her, "**__**I'm **__**here mama, please wake up." Her mother's bruised eye lids fluttered painfully open, a breath drawn slowly yet let off quietly, "Claire, my sweet, remember what I told you." **__**Tears were coming down her face Claire**__** nodded silently, "Remember…" Her pain screwed up**__** her face**__** as a sudden shot of pain went through her frail body. A cough came and a residue of blood resulted on her covered hand. "Remember," She took a breath. "Oh, mama." "Hush my dear and listen…Remember…always remember that love will find a way no matter how impossible the situation may be, true love will find a way. This I promise you my dear, true love is the greatest power i**__**n the world. It will find a way**__** this is what I leave you with my dear. Love**__**." **_

"Love." Small tears began to fall as she whispered the one thing that her mother left her with that meant the most to her. She raised her head toward the glowing eyes that were staring down at her. Yet her eyes held a new glint in them.

"Yes."

Erik had been watching her. He could see the wheels turning in her head. _She will reject me, just as Christine did. _

He still stood there staring down at her and there was hurt in his eyes.

_He didn't hear me._

Cautiously she reached up and placed her hand on his mask covered cheek.

"Erik, I said yes…" Still it didn't seem like he had registered. "Erik I said yes, to your proposal."

He shook his head slightly in shock.

"What?!" His voice came out rough and shaking. It was her turn to be slightly sarcastic.

"You heard me quite clearly the first time, I said yes, monsieur." A faint smile graced her lips.

_She said yes. She said yes. _

A strange tremor filled him. She wasn't the love of his life but she had agreed to marry him. She who was fully aware of what lay behind the mask. She who knew what he was capable of. She who was to be HIS wife. For once in his life he was to be accepted despite his face. Despite his anger and homicidal/ suicidal tendencies. He had an odd feeling she'd be the change in him. Then he knew what the feeling was! It was…happiness. It surged through his veins at a conquering pace. His second chance for happiness was achieving its purpose. With a burst of energy he gathered the girl who perhaps was his savior into his arms. An audible sigh came from her as he held her in his arms.

The one thought running through both of their minds was, _I have made the right decision. _

* * *

"We must stop by a friend's home before heading to our wedding." Erik looked at his bride gazing out the window with a faint smile on her lips.

"Of course, we'll need two witnesses anyway." Unbeknownst to him Claire was shaking terribly.

They passed by fields of flowers and forests.

"He lives a bit out of town, in the suburbs of Paris. You've met him, he's known as the…"

"The Persian or Daroga as you call him, meaning the Persian police."

Erik stared at her and once again remembered the day she came. _She knew what was going to happen._ He felt, almost felt a sense of security knowing that soon he would be her husband and would be able to restrain her from doing anything foolish. There was much he wanted to learn from her but he had an odd feeling that if he waited he'd get more than if he commanded for information._ I was never very good at waiting and being patient. _

"Ah, there it is…" he tapped the top of the carriage. The clatter of the carriage's wheels brought a face to the window of the small cottage. It had a sloped roof and vines climbing up its walls, it probably had no more than one bedroom. As Erik stood from the carriage the door opened quickly.

"By God, you are still alive."

"Yes and what's that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you see they…I…well…I helped them to…"

"Daroga enough with that, I need you to come with me as a witness…at my wedding."

"At your…what!"

"My wedding."

"To whom may I ask…not to Christine."

"No not to Christine."

"Then who?" A foot descended from the carriage. Erik gave a slight bow and offered his hand to the other occupant. Claire came out.

"That would be me." She smiled towards Daroga, who just looked at her with a shocked look on his face.

"Your…your name is Claire."

"Yes."

He turned abruptly to Erik.

"You threatened her or you did something didn't you to make her agree to do this didn't you, Erik?"

Claire looked at him, she could understand his shock but she could also see Erik grow tense and knew he might explode at any moment. She gently led a hand on his arm and then turned to Daroga.

"He did no such thing. I accepted his proposal by my own conviction and sentiments." His eyes growing shocked, once again, she gestured to the carriage. "Please, we need two witnesses, so if you would kindly get in before anything comes up." She fixed with a gaze that led him to think that the best course of action would be to follow her.

* * *

As they made their way to a small country church, Claire saw a large field of wild flowers and she realized she forgot something.

"Oh, almost forgot." She tapped lightly on the roof, and put her head out the window, "Could you stop for a moment monsieur. " And before Erik could stop her, she was out the door. "Merci." She ran towards a group of lilacs and gathered up a bunch as well as some lavender. She then pulled the ribbon from her hair and tied it around the stems of the flowers. She ran back towards the carriage and got back in and closed door. "You may continue, merci."

"Oui, mademoiselle." Came the answer.

"I'm sorry, Erik, it's just that I remember always wishing to have lavender in my bouquet." She was slightly embarrassed when she thought about it. _Probably looked like a white hare hopping over. _She giggled softly to herself. "Sorry me and my silly wishes…probably just wedding jitters." She whispered as she gazed out the window. _I remember telling my friends that I'd decided to marry when I was sure I was mature enough. Twenty three or twenty five maybe even thirty. Then, Cassandra had said laughing at me, "Watch she'll probably be the one that gets married at 18." And then we all burst into giggles. And here I am, two years earlier than that pinpoint getting married, to my dream man._ With that another giggle came from her, slightly louder than the rest. _Oops, I hope he didn't hear that. I can't believe I'm laughing at a time like this. A time like what? It seems like a dream, and it is perfect except that he doesn't love me._ A frown crossed her features.

Actually Erik had heard her, and he would have given quite a lot of his salary to know what was going through her head at that exact moment. Yet he was slightly relieved when they arrived at the church. He got a spare witness, from one of the staff. Then, all he had to do was wait for his bride to come down the aisle. He smiled at that thought, his bride. He saw Daroga speak to her but then with a slight shake of her head and a smile. Daroga sat back down. _Probably trying to talk her out of it._

Actually that was exactly what had happened.

Daroga came to Claire, "Are you sure about this mademoiselle?"

Claire looked at him, and he looked in her eyes and he saw conviction and determination in them. And the thought that she may be good for Erik flitted through his mind.

"Yes, I'm sure." And with a smile she began walking down the aisle. _A step at a time just a step at a time. _She was in fact having an inner war inside of her. Part of her wanted her to run away and never turn back but another wanted desperately for this to work. But as she looked up and looked ahead and caught the gaze of Erik she her feet took control and her mind stopped arguing and she ended up directly in front of him. And as she was asked if she would take him as her beloved husband, she looked up into his eyes and replied, "I do."

"You may now exchange rings." Erik pulled the gold ring from his pocket and slipped it onto her long, slender ring finger and breathed a sigh of relief.

"I know declare you man and wife. You may now kiss the bride." Erik grew tense and stiff as the lines were uttered_. I guess I'll have to do all the work._ Claire leaned forward and Erik slowly bent lower, there wasn't that far to go, for Claire was tall. Claire did the rest, she softly placed a feather light kiss on his lips.

They signed the register, and both didn't know what to say, yet they held each others hands reverently. For now they both had a beginning.


	9. Home Sweet Home

I'm married, me. Claire smiled as Erik rowed back to their home. Their home. My home, that's what I'll make it, my home. I'll liven it up and make it seem like a real home for Erik and I.

As they reached the dock, the boat came in and Erik jumped out and tied it to the post.

"My lady." He held his hand out for her to grab. Claire looked from him to his hand and then nervously smiled.

She looked back at him as she took his hand and he helped her out of the boat. All he needs is someone who will love him and make him feel alive. Claire's smile broadened as she became determined to become that someone.

Erik looked into her eyes and saw the transformation. It had been a quiet ride back from the wedding. Yet as he helped her out of the boat she smiled and he saw his own nervousness and anxiousness mirrored through that one gesture. Then she took hold of his hand and the change occurred. Her smile grew bigger leaving the edges of nervousness behind and forgotten.

He could feel his lips starting to tug at the corners without permission. He couldn't remember one day in his life that he actually smiled a real smile. Not grim, not a sneer, not a wistful or a sad on but a real one, of actual happiness.

So as a genuine smile spread across his face one could almost believe that the face behind the mask was not blotted and stretched over a skull with mottled skin but a rather stunning handsome face. He seemed to have transfigured right before her eyes. Little wrinkled could be barely seen around the corners of his eyes and Claire had the silly thought of him with dimples. Two cute little ones on the sides of his mouth. She could see the shock she felt at his reaction was as well shared with him. She knew his days of happiness were limited and they were never truly genuine happiness.

Thus, it became her goal, no her duty in her mind to show him that even though his face had been shunned all his life he could still have a chance at joy and elation. She would make him feel normal for once, he would no longer think himself a corpse the red death, but a man. A genius, as he truly was. So as she passed through the door of her new home. She looked around with new eyes and took a deep breath. She sighed lightly as she squeezed his hand that she still held.

"Home sweet home." A slight chuckle went through Erik as he said those words. Claire just looked at him.

"Erik, you've heard of the saying…wait of course you have…home is where the heart is." Erik's smile began to slip away. "And I intend to make that true, here." She gently laid a finger on Erik's chest pointing to his heart. She took off the cloak she was wearing and put it into her room and then came back into the rose room to see Erik still standing there. She looked briefly at him and that walked over to the table to lay her bouquet down on it. "I can't decide whether I want to dry them, that way I have them forever or at least almost forever. Or put them here to liven up the room. Oh, I should have gotten more flowers, where has my brain been lately. Oh, well. Erik?" She turned to where Erik had been standing but he wasn't there. She turned to her left but he wasn't at his organ and she was pretty sure she would have heard the door open and close, if he'd gone into his room; trapdoor lover or not. Then idea came to her. She turned around and there he was right behind her the whole time with a smug grin on his face, no trace of shock left on his face but replaced with a cool sly look. Yet she still caught a slight bit of disappointment flick through his stern eyes gazing down upon her, but then it was gone as quickly as it came. To some it might have unnerved them, but she just gazed right back at him with a smiled played about her face. She wouldn't succumb to his tricks.

"Next time pick more wisely when you want to startle someone Erik. I grew up with an older brother and we were constantly making booby traps for each other and jumping out from dark corners to try to scare one another."

"You never told me you had a brother."

"You've never asked."

"I believe there's a lot I haven't asked about you. For instance, how did you appear suddenly in my music room? How you knew about me?" He began to walk around her in tight circles, reminding her of the first time he did the same thing. "Oh, and my personal favorite; Who exactly is the young woman that I find I am married to?"

Claire would not give in. First, she barely knew how she got there in the first place. Second, he wouldn't believe her no matter what he saw or heard when she arrived at his home. Claire tried to remain as cool as he.

"You know my name is Claire. My last name is McKonelly. My father has Irish roots and my mother's are a bit uncertain. Don't even to begin to ask questions about that, because I tried and I couldn't get much headway. I have a brother his name is Charles. He left shortly after my parents accident, not wanting to deal with my uncle and aunt. They are somehow related to my mother. They are also a subject that I don't wish speaking of because I'll just end up in a bunch of angry tears and I'm not in the mood for that again today. I used to live in America, or the New World. When I became orphaned…" Claire took a shaky breath trying to stop all those tragic memories from coming back. Yet she didn't stop Erik from seeing her distress. He found himself reaching out to her and setting his cold hand on her shoulder. But when he realized what he'd done he was surprised and relieved that she did not jerk back from his touch. She looked up at him and continued on. "I came here to Paris, but my aunt and uncle won't be looking for me, don't worry. They'll be glad I'm gone, soon enough for them to get all the money I inherited. All though they are not exactly living in the streets."

"Wouldn't your brother get the money if something happened to you."

"Usually, but my aunt and uncle cut off all conections between my brother and I and a year ago, someone believed they found a body that they identified as my brother's. So my aunt and uncle got his inheritance and now mine."

"It's a sad tale you weave."

"It's not as bad as some." Claire looked off as the memories came flooding back, but Erik interrupted.

"You should get some sleep my dear, you must be exhausted."

"Yes, I believe I am." She shook her head to clear it. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight and thank you."

**A/N: This was a hard chapter to write, so sorry if didn't come up to standards. Please review even if they are a bit of flames. I always appreciate you opinions. Thanks for the reviews. **


	10. Perry

Their days formed a routine. They both would wake and who ever was the first up would make breakfast in bed for the other. They would politely knock on one another's doors and then feed them a homemade breakfast. (Claire was situated in the Louis Philippe room and Erik in his.)

The first morning Erik made breakfast for Claire was the morning after their wedding. A nervous Erik watched as a thrilled Claire daintily took her first bite, she pondered over it. Wrinkling her eyebrows ever so slightly, giving a total look of deep contemplation. Right when Erik's nerves were about to crack, a satisfied smile spread across her face and she smacked her lips.

"Absolutely delicious." She looked at Erik as he recollected his composure and stated factually, "You didn't have to, but thank you." She reached out her hand and squeezed his. Tentatively he brought hers to his lips and spoke before giving the air above her knuckles a tentative kiss.

"The pleasure is all mine, Madame."

Then he bowed and whisked out of the room.

"Indeed." Claire whispered and gave a small smile after the feeling of tingling left on her knuckles from his breath.

And thus it became routine, whoever was up first would serve the other breakfast. The rest of the day would be spent cleaning for Claire and Erik had started composing once again, but nothing very big.

One day though things were a bit different, it was no more than a week after their wedding. Erik woke up and since he could hear no disturbance of the quiet he assumed that he was the first up. Yet as he opened the door to his room in front of him he saw a most unusual sight. At the table sat Claire, her appearance very much disheveled. Her hair was done up in a lose bun and strands of curls were lose and framing her face. She had a robe wrapped around her nightgown. But her appearance was the least unusual thing about her. She was pouring over a stack of books vigorously, and every once in a while she would stop abruptly and shift the books this way and that and write something down in very small lettering. From where he was positioned at the door he couldn't see much but he could see some light sketches here and there and mathematical scratches on the side of one paper. He looked at her curiously and once more the thought he'd been thinking over the past week, that there was much he didn't know of her, came to him once again. He was curious to find out how her mind worked. He cleared his throat announcing his presence, at first it didn't seem like it affected her much. So he cleared his throat once again. She put up her finger as if to silence him and then after another moment of scratching her head lifted from her concentrated reading, she looked at him expectantly, "Yes…" He looked back at her and then it dawned on her, her face swiftly changed to a look of shock. "Oh, dear, breakfast, I forgot to make you breakfast. I'll get right at that." She hurriedly exited to the kitchen down the hall way before Erik was even able to answer her. Overwhelm with curiosity he went over to the table to find out what she was writing and reading. What he found was quite extraordinary. His best books of architecture and building were spread out on one side of the table and on the right side were a whole bunch that he had on exotic plants and sorts. He could not figure out what she'd want with those, 

so he walked to the other side of the table to look at the writing. There were sketches of a certain kind of building and eloquently drawn in around it were exotic plants, like palms.

"What in the world is she doing?" Along the sides of the paper were algebraic equations from where she was trying to figure out the correct shape and measurements of the building. The siren sounded throughout the house. "Who in the world will that be?" He opened the door to find the Persian waiting there in front of it. "What do you want now, Daroga?" Erik growled his name spitefully.

"I wished to speak to you about…" Right then the subject of his inquiry entered carrying a tray.

"My dear, could you put the books on the coffee table please." He nodded and did so, as he saw her predicament. Claire turned her head, "Oh, good to see you well, Daroga…Hmmm." She set the tray on the table and went to the kitchen to get another plate. "I think we just have enough for you as well."

"Oh, mademoiselle…no need to…"

"Madame, Daroga!" Erik spoke harshly his temper rising.

"I know what you were going to say, sir, and I can assure you there is a need. Knowing that the two of you often take awhile to settle an argument without trying to kill each other, you will need some food. Especially since its quite early and you've probably not had a good breakfast. Now sit down both of you, my dear, sir, there's something I wish to ask you before you launch into a discussion with Erik." The Persian nodded seeing that he didn't have much of a choice, although her voice was gentle and calm she had a certain firmness that a person would wish not to disobey.

"Of course, Madame."

"First, I'd wish you to call me Claire. Second…"

"Oh, but that would be terribly unseemly Madame. "

"No it is not, Erik calls me thus you shall."

"He is your husband, madam."

"Well, yes, but having you say madam at the end of each sentence makes me feel increasingly older than my current age, no offense to those who are older than me. I'd feel much more comfortable if you were to call me Claire. Especially since I am determined to have you as a friend." Erik's eyebrows rose at this statement and his mask rose a bit from his face, but he remained silent while observing his wife taking command of the table.

The Persian looked a little more than slightly uncomfortable. "This is delicious."

"Thank you and now to the second thing I wished to speak to you about. Since I am determined to have you as a friend I cannot continue calling you Daroga or the Persian…"

"Why, in heavens, not?" Erik turned to look at Claire with a questioning look in his eyes.



"It's unseemly." Erik laughed at this parallel.

"What do you wish to call me then…mada…" Claire cleared her throat. "I mean Claire?"

"That's much better. Now, what's your real name?" The Persian shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

"I no longer use it, that part of my life is long gone. Just as Erik's real name is, but for a different reason, of course." Claire nodded as she looked at him.

"Then would you terribly mind if I found a name to call you?" The Persian seemed a bit surprised, which was happening a lot that day.

"I suppose so…Claire."

"Good…Robert…no…doesn't suit you…" She pondered awhile with her hand supporting her chin. Suddenly a smile spread across her face. "I've got it! Perry…I'll call you Perry."

"Where in the world did you come up with that name, my dear?" Erik looked at her with a curious look and was a bit surprised to see a blush rise up onto her cheeks.

"The Persian."

"The Per…Ah, Perry…Persian…interesting….but I'm surprised you couldn't think of a better name."

"I suppose I could get used to it." For the first time in a long time, a smile crossed **Perry's** face.

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to update, but balancing HW with my other stories and also Annie has been a pain. Thanks for all the reviews and thanks for those who've just got on. This story has the most reviews of all my other stories. So thanks again. My friend was reading this story and although she liked the storyline she mentioned my bad grammar, so sorry if its stunk, I'll try to work on it.**


	11. Shopping with Perry

As Claire cleared up, the two men talked in Erik's room. It was a bit intimidating for the Persian but he was pretty sure in time it would change.

"I'll get straight to the point, Erik. What I wish to speak to you about is Claire I've…" Erik stepped forward threateningly and his eyes narrowed, but the Persian raised his hand, "I know, she is YOUR wife and I will admit that I came here to check on her. Although I'm quite sure that she can take care of herself…she has that aura about her." Erik nodded in agreement to the last statement but he still stared at the Persian almost daring him to proceed and cross the invisible line of discretion. "Erik…well…I was just thinking that I noticed that she is a bit taller than Christine was and a bit well slender in areas where Christine was not and lar…" He stopped when he saw the dangerous gleam in Erik's golden eyes. "What I'm trying to say is…does she have anything else to wear?"

An awkward silence followed, as Erik realized he had completely forgotten about that. She hadn't said anything about it. After a moments thought Erik grew angered suddenly that the Persian, no less, had wondered…no cared enough to think of his own wife's needs.

" How dare you insult me in such a matter, Daroga! If it weren't for my wife's displeasure in finding out that I had killed her newly found friend I would kill you right now! You NITWIT!" Even though Erik wore a mask the skin around it flared up with a fiery red angry blush. "And if you think that…" A gentle knock at his door stopped him in midsentence.

Claire came in, she had heard Erik shouting all the way from the kitchen and despite the danger she thought it best to interrupt before Erik strangled the Persian.

"Now, Erik I'm sure he didn't mean it the way you took it." She lightly touched his arm. He looked down at her the anger gone but the guilt stayed. "Now, lets think. Perhaps since Perry suggested it I could go with him to one of the shops of your choice of course." She saw him about to argue but she held up her hand. "And then if it suits you my dear we'll have a picnic." She turned towards Perry. "Is there a nice park or place that we could have a picnic but still have some privacy."

"Yes I do believe I know of a place."

"Wonderful! Now Erik will meet us there with the lunch, agreed." The two men looked upon the young woman and both nodded their heads. "Alright then, I'll just go get changed and then we'll be on our way."

&

The main shopping area of Paris was alive with activity. Children ran across the plaza while there nanas chased after them. Young women gazed longingly through windows admiring golden ball gowns woven with pearls.



As Perry escorted Claire down the lane one might think that she was either oblivious to the incredulous stares she was receiving or ignoring them. For it wasn't every day that a Parisian would see an older Persian gentleman escorting a young pixie-like woman down the street.

And then Claire saw the shop. It wasn't as big as the others but it was small and cozy, someplace that she most likely would have gone to in her time. She walked in and smiled at the colors surrounding her. Rich royal indigos, crimson reds, sun-bright golds and silver threads.

"My dear it almost looks like you've discovered Paradise."

"Oh, dear, don't exaggerate so much." Yet she still giggled.

"Madame, this young woman wishes to get a whole wardrobe down to the last stocking." The store keepers lit up with the idea of how much money she was going to retain.

"That's quite a lot, will you have enough."

"Her husband is quite wealthy, you can be assured that everything will be paid. He wants her to have the best."

"Of course."

The next hour was a flurry of activity. When Claire finally came out of the shop, her arms were full of bags, as well as Perry and there were still some dresses that they would pick up later.

"Well I suppose we can drop these off at my home, Claire and then we'll go meet up with Erik."

"Alright." Claire suddenly realized she terribly missed him. She hadn't realized she'd expressed that out loud until she heard the Persian respond back.

"I'm glad. He needs someone like you."

"I'm glad you think that, Perry. And I believe he deserves it as well."

"Oh, yes that I'll definitely agree with it. Whatever comes to him he'll deserve, alright." Perry threw back his head and laugh and then looked over at Claire who smiled and then started to laugh as well.

**A/N: I'm sorry that I haven't updated in ages. School has been crazy and then this whole summer I have to work for my dad (I'm not getting paid). And then of course I'm working on my play too. So its insane. Oh, by the way ****Annie ****went terrifically. **


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